CHAPTER EIGHT
WARD
It’s been over a year since I started renovating this place, but I think I’ve finally finished the south side of the house.
Lou’s been teasing me this week, telling me that I should take a little time away from my tool belt—after all, we’ve only been married for a couple of days and it’s not like we took a honeymoon—but honestly, I’ve never been more eager to get all of my projects done. To finish making this place ours. Now that we’re officially a family, now that the responsibility is fully on my shoulders, I’m determined to give my wife and my daughter the best home possible.
Of course, considering the size of this place it’ll probably take me about ten more years to finish, but who’s counting? It’s hard not to feel satisfied with the work I’ve done so far. We have big plans for this place—but our first priority is to get the house and estate back to what it was, to erase all evidence of Edward Carolson and Huntington Manor.
“What do you think?” I ask Ramona. Lou and Lily went into town today, so I offered to take Ramona for the afternoon. Normally I don’t want my daughter anywhere near my renovation projects—there are too many dangers for a small child—but today I want to show her what I’ve done. How her mom and I are clearing the shadows of the past and building a life for her.
Edward Carolson—my biological father—wasn’t a terrible person, I guess. But he wasn’t really a good one, either. I didn’t even know who he was until a couple of years ago, after he hired me to help develop this place into a luxury resort. He died before I had the chance to get to know him, but I have a feeling we wouldn’t have gotten along even if we’d had all the time in the world. We were from different planets. He left me and my mother to live in poverty while he and his family had everything anyone could ever want.
Leaving me this place was probably his way of trying to make it up to me, but while I’m grateful for the comfort and security of this estate, it can never make up for what Edward Carolson didn’t do.
I stroke Ramona’s hair. Her curls are so soft beneath my fingers. Sometimes it still terrifies me, knowing that I have a kid. I have no idea how to be a dad. I didn’t have one to show me the way. I mean, some of this stuff is common sense—give her love and attention, make sure she has food and clothing and clean diapers, protect her from outside harm—but in most ways, I still feel lost. I don’t want to be a good father for her—I want to be the best father. And deep down, no matter what I do or how hard I try, I’m deathly afraid I’m going to screw this up somehow. That I’m going to fail to be the dad that Ramona needs or deserves.
Lou says I’m crazy. She tells me I’m a great dad, but the fear still sticks. It’s a knot in my chest that I feel every time I hold my daughter, every time I look down into her angelic little face. This is everything that I’ve ever wanted—a woman who I love more than life itself, a child we created from our love, a safe and happy home—but I’m not sure I deserve it. I mean, the only reason I have this house at all is because my asshat father felt guilty. I didn’t earn any of this myself.
This is all too perfect, and somehow it’s going to fall apart.
I take Ramona outside. She’s only just woken up from her nap, so she’s still a little groggy and quiet, but her wide eyes take in everything around us.
“Does it feel like home?” I ask her.
Ramona sucks her lip into her mouth and stares up at me.
I rub her back and smile. My precious girl.
“I’m thinking of reworking the stones in the courtyard on the eastern side of the house,” I tell her. “But I have to talk to your mom first. She has some ideas for the garden.”
I continue to walk down the gravel path, and Ramona twists her head around, trying to take everything in. She’s reached an age where she’s curious about everything—and since she’s also starting to walk, I know the next few months are going to be a bit of an adventure.
“I don’t think I’ve ever taken you on a tour of this place,” I tell her. “Your parents have a lot of history here. We met just up there.” I point to a window above us. “I won’t tell you all the details about that, though.”
I continue around the house, and Ramona perks up a little more. Pretty soon, she’s gurgling and babbling in my arms.
“Da da!” she says. She raises her hand toward the sky. “Buh! Buh buh buh!” A flock of birds sweeps by overhead.
“That’s right—birds,” I say with a grin. “Birds.”
“Buh buh!”
I laugh. We’ll have to work on that one.
“We used to spend a lot of time out here in the maze,” I tell her as the labyrinth comes into view. “This is where I fell in love with your mom. And where I proposed to her. And, as you might remember, where we got married.” Married. Jesus, even just saying that word brings me joy—and anxiety. So much depends on me now.
“I’m doing my best,” I tell Ramona—and myself. “I promise I will always do my best.” But this still feels like uncharted waters. I mean, I never thought of living in a place like this. Never imagined I’d be this madly in love. Never even really thought about kids. I was always just fighting—fighting for more, for some little bit of happiness in a life I thought had screwed me over.
Fuck me, who’d have thought I’d become a rich, respectable man?
Being rich isn’t exactly what I thought it would be. I mean, don’t get me wrong—it’s great. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Having this sort of security for my family is incredible. Let’s be real, though—I’m not a billionaire or anything. Most of my wealth is tied up in this property—though Lou and I got a decent chunk of money by selling off supplies and furniture and other bits of Huntington Manor that we didn’t want or need.
But I’m still getting used to feeling safe. Having money at my fingertips whenever I need it. Being able to work for fun, on projects I truly care about, instead of scrambling from paycheck to paycheck, always looking for that next gig to cover my rent for the month. Sometimes it feels like I’m living someone else’s life.
And wealth comes with its own set of complications. After we got over our differences, I was happy to invite Lou’s brother and his wife to move in with us. This house is way too big for just me and Lou and Ramona. Honestly, it was a little creepy living in such a huge, empty mansion by ourselves. Having other people here brings more life and energy to this place. And let’s be blunt—all of us wanted and needed the support of family close by.
But I also feel like every long-lost relative and his brother has suddenly started creeping out of the woodwork. From the moment the news went public that Edward Carolson had left this place to me, I had old friends calling me out of the blue, asking for money. And let’s not even think about that guy who showed up here last summer, claiming to be Lou and Calder’s brother. I mean, he might actually be their brother, but people like that weren’t stumbling into my life when I was barely making ends meet.
Now Lily’s mom is here. I know we’re supposed to be giving her the benefit of the doubt, but I’m pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before she asks for money.
So yeah, things are different now.
“Da,” Ramona says. “Da wa wa.”
Wa wa is her way of asking me to put her down.
“You want to walk?” I ask her, lowering her carefully to the grass.
I set her on her feet, and she clings to my leg. The sun shines off of her red hair as she twists her head, looking around her. She begins to bounce slightly, bending her knees up and down as she gets her bearings.
“Where do you want to go?” I ask her. “I’ll help you.”
She grins up at me, flashing her handful of baby teeth. “Da da!”
Jesus, this girl has me wrapped around her little finger. Yeah, I might still be getting used to the life we’re building here, but I can’t regret anything that led me to this.
Ramona finally decides on a direction, and she points a chubby hand away from me, toward the maze.
“All right,” I tell her. “Let’s go.” I bend over and take her hand, then move forward a step.
She toddles after me on unsteady feet, then grabs my jeans again.
Step by step we move across the grass. She can’t seem to build up the courage to do more than two or three steps at a time, but I’m okay with that. When this girl gets moving on her own, there’ll be no stopping her—and I’m definitely not ready for that.
Jesus, how did you grow so fast? She needs to slow down. Give me a chance to figure out what the hell I’m doing—or the chance to build her the home she deserves.
I don’t think I’ll ever not feel a little restless in this place. Not when it was just handed to me. I know I should just accept that I got lucky—and looking down at my daughter, I’m pretty sure I’m the luckiest guy in the whole damn world—but I don’t think I’ll ever stop being afraid that it’ll be taken away from me again. That’s why I’ve been throwing all of my energy into renovating this place. I need to put my own stamp on this life. Pour my own blood, sweat, and tears into this estate. Give Lou and Ramona something I built with my own two hands.
But in the back of my mind, I’ll always be wondering, Is it enough?